Fantasy Western Novels & Stories

Writes romance fiction from YA to adult, contemporary to fantasy. Most Kage stories lean more toward the lighter, sillier side with a couple meaningful moments thrown in. Focuses more on entertainment value and emotional impact. Lives with hubby, two daughters, cat Holly, and nine cuckoo clocks in southeast Kansas, USA. Farm girl. Parents were dairy farmers. Was youngest of eight. Big family. Day job as a library assistant. Harry Potter House Gryffindor, Patronus White Stallion. Supernatural Team Dean. Game of Thrones Team Jon Snow and Tyrion Lannister. The Walking Dead Team Daryl. Outlander Team Jamie Fraser. Teen Wolf Team Stiles. Avenger Team Thor...or Hulk (can't decide). Justice League

Maera “Congrats Maera, you're carrying the Alpha's pub,” the pack's witch told me. Asta was the witch of our pack. Ulfsang(Wolf Song) was a small pack of shifters that lived on the northern side of the realm. She was called a witch because people believed she could cast spells and turn people into squirrels.

Chapter 39: The Western Friction The grand strategic maps of the petrified cedar war table had expanded once more, moving past the smoldering naval ports of the East and the frozen, severed mountain valleys of the Northern Territory. Beta Vance had spent the hours before dawn cleaning away the dark iron markers of the Eastern pureblood dynasties, replacing them with a complex grid of emerald-green obsidian tokens representing the dense, fortified valley-states of the Western Alliances. The Western faction was an entirely different structure from the rest of the continent; they were not ruled by single tyrants or ancient bloodline councils, but by a militaristic federation of twelve high-rank

Fane nodded, letting out a laugh as he looked at the warriors gathered in the western area. "The fish that take the bait isn't even fish sometimes but a beast that can't be swallowed. So, no one knows how things will end," he spoke. Rudy nodded. Only then did he have a rough understanding of the rules of the attribute gamble. Rudy glanced at the warriors in the western area once more and noticed that most of them had dark gold patterns on their sleeves. Noticing that, he tugged at Fane's sleeve with surprise and pointed it out.

Birds’ chirpings meet my ears along with winds whispering through the light, flowery curtains, a figure standing tall beside the king-sized bed. I turn to my side to behold the redhead who has a facial appearance that is quite far from normal. I do not know how he knows that I am awake and thinking of the old man all these while. He may have missed the part where the only detail I know about Xaulfur is his half-Asian, half-Australian insane nature, and this person by my side does not look Asian at all.

Everyone likes to arrive early in the week, and by Thursday they’re already off on their adventures. Social media is too dangerous for someone like me who doesn’t want to be found, so I stick to books for entertainment. I’m enjoying an epic fantasy story when the door opens and the bell chimes, but what makes me freeze like a deer in headlights is the scent. A man walks in who is tall dark and handsome. He’s a wolf, and he doesn’t carry the stench of a rogue.

"Do not make them look stupid for picking you. Can you handle the wolves out there, Penelope? They are not like the soft ones inside the palace walls." I stand up so fast my leather chair rolls back and hits the oak bookshelf behind me with a loud thud. "Tell Father I am already packing my bags," I say. "Tell Cooper to have the keys ready." The transition does not happen with a ceremony. It happens with blood and ink. One month passes. The heat of the Central City summer burns off, replaced by the damp, cold fog that rolls off the western tarmac every morning at dawn. I sit behind a grey steel desk in the Western Border headquarters. The building is an old, converted concrete fortress overlo

"The men... we still haven't found her." I knew who he was talking about before he could clarify—The Queen of the West. I clenched my jaw, feeling the familiar surge of irritation rise. The men I'd sent to track her down had turned up empty-handed again and again. It was so unlike Felix to not have such dig-ups under control with positive results. But I chose not to be too hard on him. Felix shook his head, looking genuinely frustrated. "She's literally a ghost." I didn't respond right away, letting the silence hang heavy between us.

I had never asked him where he came from. Is the West not the same place the lab guy confirmed the healing balms come from? Everything was coming at me all at once. My legs seemed wobbly now. I managed to sit on the bed, looking intensely at the paper in my hand as my brain spun with thoughts. I reached for my phone, typing furiously. “Everything I need to know about the Western Pack.” And just like that, everything that concerned the West popped up. I scrolled, going from one page to another, but… nothing was interesting.

After she had showered she found the clothes Lucas had left for her and stood looking at them with a frown on her pretty face, 'Dear God, what century did these people live in? She thought with a wry smile holding up the calf-length gypsy skirt, it was a rich purple colour shot through with silver thread and the matching long-sleeved bolero jacket looked like it had come out of the distant past. She was unaware of the simple life the Werewolves lived, they did not follow fashion and rarely even watched the TV, they worked hard and played hard but for the most part technology passed